


Life Before Chitaqua: Phil

by Speary



Series: Down to Agincourt Inspired Fics [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Croatoans, Down to Agincourt, DtA, End of the World, End!verse, F/M, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, M/M, Phil's Backstory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-18 03:29:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4690466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speary/pseuds/Speary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil knew of love and loss. His world was poetry and friendly gatherings in Venice Beach. His heart was full and his life was finally heading in a shining new direction. A trip to Kansas redirected that path to something darker and less hopeful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Map of the World](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733861) by [seperis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seperis/pseuds/seperis). 



> In another life I could have called you mine.  
> Your eyes on mine are true love’s sign.
> 
> I dream of the echo of your step down halls that have not carried you.  
> I dream of your approach as if it could be the start of something new.
> 
> In another life, I called you mine.  
> Your breath on my cheek a sign.
> 
> You linger there in kisses never had.  
> The press of fingertips curing what once was sad.
> 
> I loved you once, as you did me.  
> I love you still, but I’ll never have thee.
> 
> The swell of time and hours of contemplated cost,  
> Will never cure this heart of all that it has lost.
> 
> Yet still I linger in moments of hazy sleep.  
> Still hoping there, for that is where you are mine to keep.

He was a teacher in the L.A. Unified School district. His master's degree in English literature afforded him a nice salary increase and the dream of a future job in some community college somewhere. It was a dream though that never amounted to action. There was a time when he had considered what it would be like to work with people that actually wanted to be in the room with a lover of words. Somehow, though, Phil required something in his daily life that a community college career would not give to him.

A captive audience.

A paying clientele could up and leave if the desire to do so came upon them. Phil's brand of educating was a slow burn effort. He could not walk into a room and immediately charm his students. He would begin with poetry, making a slow mindful journey to standard prose, then over to the plays of Shakespeare. He had them for a full school year, one hundred eighty days. Much could be accomplished in that time. At the college, he would have them, at best, for seventy days, given all of the holidays that would get in the way. Seventy days would at best be foreplay for someone like Phil, or, more accurately, it would be like the casual conversations that proceed a date that might lead to foreplay on some distant future day. No matter how one considers it, Phil could not make people love language without the proper amount of time.

And there it was, the very thing that Phil was always in want of, time. He felt his days often rushing out around him. He had things organized just so, the day's activities catalogued into tables and day planners. He knew his curriculum all the way out to the end of the term. He had the days mapped out on agendas that he would hand out each month to the students. It was how he kept control and order in a chaotic world.

When not at the high school, Phil would drive out to Venice Beach. There he would engage in his thrice weekly sessions of Bikram yoga. He chose a studio that was far from his home. He did not want to encounter any of his students there. This place was his refuge, his quiet thoughtful place. It was also where he had met people that he viewed as his people. Like minded types with sensible health-minded lifestyles. They would often go out together after a session, warmth still following them out of the studio.

They would find themselves in small cafes or sometimes on group outings to book readings or some such thing that could elevate the discourse. On one such outing to a cafe out on the beach, Phil found himself the object of some added attention. Guy had been welcomed into their little enclave nearly from the moment that he stepped into the studio. He had a thin build and deep chestnut dark hair. His arms were corded muscles, and the tight fitting shorts that he wore gave way to thoughts of Michaelangelo's more impressive sculptures.

Phil's usual position in the studio was in the front row, along with his friends. The experienced participants were encouraged to take those spots, so as to provide examples to the back of the class. When Guy had entered, he took a spot at the front. At first, this choice was met with concern voiced only in looks, not words. The first posture was just a breathing exercise. Guy moved through it. The next posture showed that he was limber and capable. By the end of the standing postures, Phil was convinced that Guy was no novice.

Guy had made a point of choosing spots next to Phil. Their mats always at home next to each other. As the weeks passed, Phil found himself reserving the space at his side, just as Guy began doing for him. They had grown comfortable, and if Phil chose to think about it much, it was more than comfortable that he was feeling; it was hopeful. He had yet to give words to his thoughts. This was new for him, the feeling of possible reciprocity in romantic feelings. True he was attractive, yet somehow, he had not found himself in many situations where romance could be fostered or reciprocated.

Yet now there was Guy, and all the opportunity in the world sitting across from him at the cafe. His hand kept casually finding its way to Phil's knee to seemingly make a point. He had told himself that it was a cultural thing. Guy was French, and maybe that had something to do with his more physical displays of interest in the subject at hand. However, Guy did not rest his hand on any of the others in the group. His hand only seemed to find Phil, and that was something that warmed Phil almost as much as the session that was now a dimming memory.

Guy leaned across the table toward him, "Are you heading home tonight, or are you staying at Alice's place?" Sometimes Phil stayed at one of their friend's houses when the night ran long.

"No, Alice has an early morning planned." Phil noticed the way that Guy seemed to drop his head a little and talk with a glance up through his lashes that were thick and dark.

"You could haunt my place if you want. I have a fairly comfortable couch." Guy held a small coffee cup in his hand. His fingers were doing all of the work. His palm wasn't even touching it. He sipped from the edge and then smiled across at him. Alice and Pete were having a heated discussion about something political. The merits of a woman in the White House even if that woman was a Palin. Phil cringed and turned his attention more fully back to Guy.

"I wouldn't want to get in the way. Alice hardly notices me when I take over the guest room. I'd likely be a bit of a bother at your place."

"Why do you think that?" He leaned impossibly closer to Phil, as if the noise of Pete and Alice was too much to talk over. True there was the other conversation from Dan, Carl, and Rosalie, but it wasn't like they were loud.

"I don't know. I think you mentioned that you had a studio apartment. I think that I would get in the way." Phil didn't mention all of the other reasons. They hadn't progressed to that level of conversation yet.

"Hmm." Guy sipped at his coffee again, and then set it down. "I would not find your presence intrusive. I would not have offered otherwise." He smiled again, and Phil set down his glass, since his hand was noticeably shaking with nerves.

"Maybe I should take you up on it then. The drive back is a pain. This way, I don't have to nurse the beer." He smiled back and drummed at the table a little.

"Good, glad that's settled." Guy rested his hand on Phil's leg again, but just for a moment. It was enough though. Phil took up his glass again and tipped it back, taking in all of the remaining beer in one long gulp.

The meal passed in ever increasing volume. The politics became a greater focal point in the conversation, and Phil found himself growing uneasy with the tone of the talk. He got up eventually to meander to the restroom. Really he just wanted a break from the noise of it all. He didn't notice anyone behind him as he moved through the crowd inside of the cafe. The outdoor seating area had been largely dominated by his group. Inside, their noise would hardly have been noticeable. He snaked past the last bench seat and into the restroom. He didn't stay in there long. When he came out, Guy was across from the door, leaning against the wall, just as casual as the day is long.

His voice was rich honey over an accent made for poetry. He reached out to Phil and pulled him close. "Come with me." Phil wondered if this was as intimate as it seemed. It was twilight and the sky was awash with purples and pinks. On the far horizon he could see the thin shape of the moon. Phil leaned against the wall outside, thankful for its solid support. Guy leaned into him again and said near his ear, "The moon is out."

"I see that." He wondered why this detail had to be shared in such close proximity.

Guy leaned back from him and seemed to be trying to read him. "I don't know if I am doing this right. I still have words that are lacking in my English."

"What do you mean?" Phil wanted to brush back his hair that was falling down over his cheek. _It was too intimate though,_  he thought.

"I want from you." He leaned back in again.

"You want from me?" Phil tipped his head a little. "What do you want from me?"

Guy looked frustrated. "See, I don't say it right. I want you."

"You want me?"  _That must be a mistake too._

"Is that wrong too?"

"I don't know. Is it? Tell me what you mean." They were close and sharing the same breath. Phil hoped that Guy meant what he had said.

"I want to share my bed with you. I want to taste your lips, kiss past your smile. I want." Guy's English seemed to have improved quite a bit. "I took those words from a book. I am not a poetry maker like you, Phil."

"You have feelings for me?" Phil hadn't sucked in a breath in some time. He waited, heartbeat knocking out the seconds in his chest.

"Many feelings." He moved closer, and Phil tipped his head back a bit, angling himself for the kiss that he hoped was on its way. Guy did not disappoint. He leaned close, so that their chests pressed together first. His hands came up to Phil's cheeks and held him. His lips brushed slow and soft on his until, Phil grabbed him and pulled him closer, opening his mouth to the kiss.

Time is a precious commodity. In those weeks, Phil felt like he had finally grown to appreciate time in seconds. The richness of minutes and hours spent with Guy were treasures that carried him through long work weeks to the glories of the weekends. The nights that they had yoga sessions would end at Guy's place. Sometimes he would stay and make the horrid early morning commute back to L.A. for his classes. Sometimes he would leave in the night, a trail of kisses carrying him to the door.

Night was his friend, and daytime was the brutal enemy that pulled him back to his life in L.A. To make matters worse, he had a training that was scheduled for him in, of all places, Kansas. He tried to get out of it. It was connected to a very generous grant, so there was no escaping it. The flight had been arranged and the tickets purchased. His hotel room was set too. They talked about the possibility of them going together.

There was still a week to maybe work it out. He had hope. They laid awake one Friday night and talked about how it would work. Kansas wasn't a liberal bastion of acceptance. He thought that they could figure it out though. The moonlight dripped in through the window causing Guy's back to glow in hues of white blue light. Phil traced poems into his skin and whispered endearments into the soft curve of his neck. He pressed his lips there and drank in his dizzying scent.

Phil glided through days that he wanted to stretch out into weeks. The time to leave drawing closer and closer with no apparent decision being made by Guy. Then just one night before departure, he sprang the news on him. "So, I got the ticket."

Phil stopped up short and sucked in a breath. "For real?"

"Would I lie?" Phil shoved him back on the bed and buried his words in kisses. He had not been happy imagining a week away from him.

The trip was now doable, maybe even pleasurable. Days spent in sessions on Common Core Standards could now be tolerated, because nights could be spent in quiet contemplations of their own. "How did I get so lucky?"

"I am lucky." Guy held him and kept Phil from talking for a few moments. "You will like Kansas better now?"

"I will. You'll be there." And like that Phil knew what it meant to need someone, to really truly need someone. Guy was his oxygen, his oasis. And he hadn't even known before just how much he was in need of this. He had felt like his life was one long walk through a hot desert. Then there was Guy and his simple pleasures. He loved the way the sky looked just as the sun would set. He would ask Phil to write poems about it. Guy would paint sometimes in shades of blue and grey, the world at dusk. For Phil these were the colors of love, and his future.

Guy seemed to see the world in a way that felt new. People were good, if you just let them be. Happiness was obtained by anyone that truly wanted it. Nothing really good is ever lost. These seemed to be the principles by which he lived. Guy was innocent in some regards, but it was an endearing innocence.

Phil went to work the day that they were to leave for Kansas. He put together the last of his sub. plans for the week that he would be gone. He called Guy during his lunch break and coordinated their meet-up for the flight out. They would leave from LAX, and traffic after 3:00 was going to be Hell.

As luck would have it, they rushed to the airport only to be delayed for over an hour. Guy picked up a newspaper to read while they waited. Phil just stared absently out the window at the planes that came and went. "You read about this weird flu virus that is going around?" Some older man was asking the guy next to him.

"Yeah, supposedly there's a vaccine for it though. Some people have issues with it though. They say it hasn't been tested enough or some fool thing." The guy responded back. Phil let his eyes fall on them casually as they spoke. He looked at the newspaper that Guy was reading and took in the headline.  _Kansas outbreak contained._

He reached up and pulled the outer layer of the paper to him, careful to leave the rest in Guy's hands. He folded it back and read about the outbreak.  _The CDC has brought in over one hundred doctors to help with the distribution and administration of the vaccine. The outbreak seems to be contained; however, vaccination will be necessary if future outbreaks are to be contained._  Phil leaned back and asked, "You read about this outbreak thing in Kansas?"

Guy looked at him and said, "Yeah, it looks like it was a country thing."

Phil looked back at the article to see if there was some mention of where it was most prevalent. He'd feel better if it wasn't near Topeka. The article was vague, but it did say something about the virus being an issue mostly near the southern border of the state. Somehow that felt like enough distance. "I wonder if we should call off the trip."

Guy set the paper aside and looked at him. "You have put a lot of time into getting this grant. You are going."

"Your ticket is nonrefundable isn't it?" Phil smiled up at him.

"And there is that issue too." Guy smiled back. "We will do our best to stay in our hotel room so as to avoid all of the sick people."

"I do have classes to take."

"Well, then I will let you. You must make sure to not leave me alone for too long. I may get the flu." He coughed to make his point. Guy laughed through the cough though, and Phil found himself laughing with him. The flight crew began calling people to board the plane. Apparently, they had finally been given the all clear. Guy started to get up. "Well, get up lazy man."

Phil followed the orders and together they dragged their carry-ons and boarded.

* * *

Kansas was not what he had expected. The airport gave off a vibe that was not unlike something out of the militarism post 9/11, yet it was more than that. He felt like there were things happening that weren't being shared out directly. There were soldiers, more than normal in the airport, and that in and of itself was a little troubling. He pushed the worry aside. Guy didn't seem to be concerned. Perhaps something had happened and the National Guard had just been sent out for added safety.

They caught a cab and settled in at the hotel. The view of the town was not so exciting. It was a much smaller place than L.A., but he had expected that. He stared out at the streets and watched the people walking down the sidewalk. Guy came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. He rested his chin on Phil's shoulder and sucked in a deep breath.

"You tired," Phil asked.

"Very." Guy nestled in further. "Can we go to bed?" It was still a little light out, but it was past sunset, so sleep could be justified.

"Yeah." Phil would be getting up early for his first session and for registration. He wondered if Guy would want to sleep in or do early breakfast with him. He hoped for the latter. They cast aside clothing in their walk to the bed, a trail of pants and shirts marking their path. Phil pulled back the comforter and Guy pushed it off the end of the bed. He didn't like having a ton of blankets covering him in the night. Most nights Phil would watch the gentle rise and fall of Guy's chest as he slowly slipped into his own sleep. The night was his blanket, the moonlight robed him in pale hues of luminescence. They were Phil's favorite times. He liked the peacefulness of those quiet moments.

He climbed into the bed and Guy curled up behind him. His hands tracing a path up to his chest. Phil lived in the joy of gentle puffs of air curling out around his shoulder and ear. Guy's lips pressed light kisses there too. Phil stared off toward the other side of the room where their second bed was. They had felt the need to get a two bed room so as to avoid any accusatory looks. Phil would throw back the blankets on it in the morning before he left the room.

Guy's attentions seemed to be growing. He was not as tired as he had implied. Phil rolled over and faced him. He was not so tired either. It was still early, after all. There was something in these moments that precipitated action that inspired Phil. He wrote about them in his composition books. He always had one tucked away somewhere. He would dabble in writing little stories, poems, and musings. Tonight, he thought that he'd write about Guy's deep earthy eyes. They made him think of hidden woodlands, the smell of pine carried on fog.

Their movements together were a gentle dance. They had figured each other out over days spent in bed back in the earlier stage. Now it was simple and all together not simple at all. It was something straight out of dreams of flying and moments in which one remembers what it is to just breathe.

Phil had grown accustomed to his somewhat solitary life, but now that he had Guy, he could not imagine such a lonely existence again. When they finally did drift off to sleep, first Guy, then much later, Phil, it was, unbeknownst to either of them, the slight calm before the very wretched storm.

* * *

"I love you," Phil whispered into Guy's ear as he was getting up.

"Sleeping." Guy rolled over, pulling the sheets over his head as he did so.

I'm heading out for breakfast and morning classes. You want to get up and do breakfast with me?" Phil sounded hopeful.

"You are my greatest love after sleep. Enjoy your breakfast, Mon Ami." Guy peeked over the sheet with a smile. "If you don't keep me up so late tonight, I'll get breakfast with you tomorrow."

"Ah, I see, the honeymoon is over. Sleep is your new mistress." Phil put on a show of sulking.

Guy laughed at him. "Come back for lunch. I'll be awake then." Phil swooped in and kissed him soundly before leaving. Guy would regret not getting up if Phil had his way.

"Love you too." He moved off toward the door.

"Classes are overrated. Come back to bed." Guy pulled back the covers a little too tempt him further.

"See you at lunch." Phil made a quick escape then. The grant for the trip afforded him no options that included sleeping in over classes, despite the allure of Guy.

* * *

He sat alone at the hotel cafe. Phil read the news and ate his eggs and toast. The coffee was warm and felt like it would bring forth more consciousness. Someone was turning up the TV. There was some act of violence on the screen.

Several groups were watching. Phil heard a lady to his left comment. "If people would just vaccinate, we would not be seeing this." There was a man on the screen, cornered by police in riot gear. He seemed to be crazed. One of the officers was bleeding where the man had apparently bitten him.

Phil leaned across the table and asked the woman, "Is he infected with that virus that was going around?"

She turned from her friend and said, "Yeah, there have been a few like this. He seems to be severely infected. I thought that it had been contained though."

"Makes me want to get out of Dodge." Phil rubbed at his chin, the stubble already noticeable.

"Me too. You here for the conference?"

"Yeah." He reached over, "Name's Phil."

She shook his hand and said, "Carla, and this is Ed. We're from Wisconsin. You?"

"California. Los Angeles to be exact." They talked shop for a bit, sharing differences in educational practices from their regions. They went off to the same first session together and let the televised violence fall away from their thoughts.

By lunch time, Phil was starving. His head was swimming with too much information and a desperate need to be outside. The sessions were mostly held in windowless conference rooms in the lower levels of the hotel's basement. The TVs were still a center of focus in the cafe as he passed on his way to the elevator to retrieve Guy. It looked like the same scene from that morning. He turned a corner and it was out of sight. It is amazing what human beings can ignore. Less than twenty-four hours after 9/11 and people were clamboring for entertainment to flood the TVs instead of the footage of the attacks. Even the president told the people to engage in retail therapy. Today there were clusters of violence spawned by some contained virus, and yet it need not be the thing of focus.

Phil had been conditioned like everyone else in the world. Bad things happen, and some of it can be ignored. Maybe even most of it can be ignored. He stepped into the elevator. It was actually playing elevator music. Some upbeat, too cheery instrumental thing was crowding into his thoughts. He exited the elevator into silence and walked down the empty halls. The carpets were orange, patterned with swatches of almond and darker brown colors. It was a little ugly. The hall was mostly lit by the windows at either end. There were several wall sconces as well. He got to their room and inserted the keycard. He could hear the TV noise before he entered. The same news broadcast from downstairs was playing.

"Hey babe." Phil took in the sight of Guy sitting on the edge of the bed, staring wide-eyed at the TV. "You okay?"

"Have you seen this?" He waved at the TV. Phil came over and sat down at his side. His arm rested alongside Guy's. Guy had gotten dressed, but Phil would guess that he hadn't eaten or done much else.

"You have breakfast yet?"

"No." Guy looked at him confused. Then he looked back at the TV and repeated, "Have you seen this, Phil?" Phil took in the broadcast.

"It was playing downstairs. They have it contained though. Heard it is a rural thing." Phil brushed it off. Guy redirected his face to the TV with his hand on Phil's chin.

"No, Phil. Look at it. Does that look rural to you? Does that look contained?" Guy sounded quite upset. Phil gave the TV his attention. Guy's hand dropped.

The scene was in a city. It was not rural at all. There was a crazed man running down the street, attacking people. Police officers gunned him down. Then there was another man and a woman. They were dealt with in the same way. It was then that he realized that this was not footage from earlier. This was new footage of many people. Somehow he had told himself that it was all just shots of the one man that he had seen that morning. Somehow he had erased the background with the tall buildings and the officers that were not straight out of the backwoods. Something in the background looked familiar. "Shit. Where is this?"

"Here, Phil. They said that they might have to quarantine the area. They announced it just before you got here. I was going to come look for you." Phil looked at Guy. He was noticeably frightened. "I want us to leave."

Phil got up and pressed a kiss to his head as he passed. He made his way to the window and looked down at the city. They weren't that high up, seven floors. Most of the buildings in Topeka were shorter. The capitol building was not far off. He looked out the window toward it and saw a distant column of smoke snaking its way up into the sky just beyond the dome.

He could hear a distant snap of gunfire. The streets near the hotel were virtually empty. There was a lone cat slipping past cars. It looked skittish, and with the noise of the gunfire, it crouched low and then ran off out of sight. Guy wrapped his arm around Phil. Phil pulled him in close. He stayed at the window but turned back to the TV as the news anchor began speaking of quarantines again.

"The CDC and the National Guard have been called into parts of Kansas. Topeka, Kansas is being quarantined. All residents are being asked to remain indoors." A man came over to the news' desk. It was odd and not the usual look of a polished news' broadcast. The anchor looked at the paper, and his expression visibly dropped. "I'm sorry. All residents need to remain indoors. This is not a request. A state of martial law has been declared in the Topeka region. Quarantines are now in effect. The National Guard will be out policing the streets. If you are outside, their orders are to shoot to kill. I repeat, do not go outside. All residents are to stay indoors. All flights in and out of Topeka have been grounded. Do not attempt to go outside." The anchor set down the paper, unclipped his mic and said something to the cameraman. His voice didn't carry now. Then he was walking out of the shot. The scene switched to a woman on the streets of Topeka who was doing a report from somewhere near the capitol.

"Oh God, Phil. What do we do?" And as if to punctuate the fear that they now were feeling, a low siren began to wail through the city. They both turned at the same time to the window. The TV was echoing it, since the woman and her cameraman were out in the city.

"We can't leave. They have orders to shoot people that are out there."

"This is bad. I don't think that we should stay." Guy squeezed him closer. Phil reached up and threaded his fingers into his hair at the back of his neck. Phil let his fingers press a little in an effort to ease the tension in the muscles there.

"She's out in it. Let's see what she has to say about it." Phil nodded over at the TV, and the two of them walked back over to the bed to sit and watch. Phil's phone began ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered it. "Hello."

Rosalie's voice came through. "Oh God, Phil. Are you and Guy okay?"

He could hear other voices in the background. "We're okay." He turned to Guy and said, "It's Rosalie."

"The rest of the crew is here too. We're freaking out for you both. Are you going to leave?" Rosalie stopped talking and someone in the background said something about not going outside and getting shot.

"We were going to leave, but now we are staying indoors. We are watching the news for more information." The siren was still wailing outside.

"What's that noise?"

"It's the tornado sirens. They are using them to warn everyone that they need to stay indoors I think. They've been going off for a few minutes." Phil noticed that Guy had reached out for the phone.

He handed it to Guy and watched as he pressed it to his ear. "What are they saying about the quarantine there?" Guy hummed a bit with whatever answer she gave him. "It is bad. We are concerned." He was nodding now. "Yes, we are going to try to leave." He looked at Phil for confirmation. Phil did not think that it was wise to try at this moment. The sirens were still screaming and he felt sure that they would drive him mad if they kept it up. "We have a rental car, but there are no moving cars outside."

Phil got up again to look out the window and to confirm what Guy had said. He hadn't realized that the streets were that still. The freeway was packed with cars. The taillights visible from here. They weren't moving though. The city streets were very dead.  _Why weren't they herding the people on the freeway back to the buildings?_  There was another series of snaps, more gunfire. There was a second column of smoke coming from east of the capitol building, this one bigger than the last.

There was a low rumble of noise coming from the street. He noticed the movement next. There was a man running down the street. He had a backpack on and a loose black hoodie. A Humvee showed up out of seemingly nowhere. A gun was aimed. The man raised his hands and seemed to be saying something. Phil felt his stomach clench. Somehow he knew what would happen before it did. The gun fired. The man fell in a heap right in the middle of the street.

"Shit, shit, shit. Oh shit." Phil grabbed the window frame. Guy was at his side in an instant.

Guy followed Phil's gaze down to the street and said into the phone, "Rosalie, they are shooting people in the street. Phil just saw it. I have to go. We have to go." She must have responded, but Phil didn't hear it. He could hear the blood rushing around in his ears like a rough storm at sea. His hands began shaking. He had lived in L.A. for years, and even there had never experienced something like this.

He looked away from the street and the body. "We have to go."

"Yes. It is not safe here." They looked back down at the street and watched as the men in the Humvee got out and loaded the body into the back of the vehicle. "We need to think."

"We'll take what we can carry. Maybe fit everything into one bag. Get your carry-on. That is the lightest." They moved away from the window. Guy pulled his bag out of the closet along with their suitcases. "Just a change of clothes each and toiletries." Guy looked at him funny. "I have a mini-first aid kit in there."

"That will hardly be of use. You have three band-aides and a nose hair trimmer." Guy had the toiletry bag open. "Oh, and dental hygiene is covered. Do we need that?"

"Yes. Just throw it in. We'll get some food downstairs." Phil grabbed the other suitcase and tossed back the lid. He pulled out one of his composition books and put it in the bag. Guy didn't say anything. He just zipped up the bag and threw it over his shoulder. They made their way down the hall. The siren noise was slightly muffled now that there were more walls between them and the outside world.

"Elevator or stairs?" They stopped at the space with the elevators and looked down the hall toward the red exit sign next to the elevator door.

"Stairs, I think." Phil moved toward them. They both noticed the sign that warned of the alarm that would sound if anyone used the stairs. It was a fire exit. "I hardly think that another alarm will be considered an issue at this point." He pushed the door open, and a tiny alarm sound came from the effort. They moved into the stairwell and the door closed behind them. The sound died with it. They started walking down the stairs, the echo of their footsteps creating an ominous echo in the empty space above and below them.

They made it to the bottom, and slowly opened the door. Another tiny alarm noise came with the effort. No one cared though. Everyone was milling about. Some were watching the news. Others were pressed to windows watching the empty streets.  _Did they see the shooting?_  There was a cluster of National Guard soldiers stationed at the front door leading out from the lobby. Phil walked over to them. "Do you know how long the quarantine will last?" The man looked at him like he had heard the question a million times and was not interested in hearing it again.

"No. You'll know when we know." He turned away from Phil and let his gaze wander over the crowds.

"What are we supposed to do in the meantime?" The man looked back at Phil as he asked the question.

"Not go outside." Phil moved away from him at that.

Guy came up to his side then and placed a hand at the curve of his back. "We should get food first. Plan." They went to the restaurant and ordered food. The staff was rather distracted, but they were surprisingly still working.

"Hey, mind if we join you?" Carla and Ed were at the side of their table.

"Do." They sat and Phil gestured at Guy. "This is Guy. Guy, this is Carla and Ed. They teach in Wisconsin."

Guy reached across to them and and shook their hands. "Nice to meet you."

"Ed and I are thinking of leaving." Carla's voice dropped low as she said it.

Phil glanced at Guy and then back at Carla. "Us too. Not sure how we do it though. They're shooting people in the streets and not just those that are infected."

"We know. We saw the guy in the hoodie. Bunch of us were at the window when it happened. The soldiers made us leave the windows, but we knew what happened," Ed said as he leaned a little across the table. They were all leaning into the center a little. There was an intensity in the air around them, that was also in the whole hotel. There was a constant mumble of noise, voices all going on at once. It was like the rush of ocean waves batting at the shore.

Phil asked, "Are all the exits being watched?"

Carla said, "There's one through the kitchen. I did a little wandering a few minutes before we came here. Ed checked the parking area. That area is a no go."

"Why?" Phil drummed at the table.

"Humvees blocking the exits and soldiers are there, guns drawn." Ed reached over to Phil's plate and took a french fry. "You don't mind, right?"

"Go for it." Phil looked at Guy. "We should wait 'til after dark, I think. It'll be easier to get out." There was movement out in the lobby. People were making their way over to the windows as if there was something to see. Phil could hear the low hum of vehicles driving down the street. "Should we check?" Everyone nodded and they left the table for the windows.

"Oh." Carla was beside Phil, Ed on her other side. "Why are they doing that?" There were soldiers up and down the streets. They were raising a chainlink fence barrier around the hotel. A truck pulled up. It was full of people. They unloaded them and ushered them into the hotel. When the people passed through the doors into the lobby, those at the window seemed to turn to them in unison.

A soldier with a bullhorn followed them in and then raised the devise to his lips. It crackled out a shrill sound at first. Then his words came through just as harsh. "This hotel will be used as a quarantine facility. You may be asked to share rooms with people that you do not know. This is in the interest of consolidating space. You are in the safest place in Topeka. I ask that you please remain indoors. The city is not safe. The infection is spreading rapidly. If you attempt to leave, you will not survive. If you stay here, we will protect you."

They moved back from the window after the speech ended. Guy said, "Let's get your stuff and consolidate our rooms before it is done for us." Ed and Carla nodded in agreement.

* * *

No one slept that night, at least not fully. Someone was always at the window. The moon was waning now. Phil stared out at the night and the city. There were fires in the distance. The freeway had grown darker. Some of cars must have been shut off. Occasionally he could hear a distant horn honking long into the night. The sirens had been shut off. The news was vague and was now coming from outside of Kansas. He wondered what had happened to the lady that was covering downtown Topeka.

Guy came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. "You need to sleep."

"You too." Neither left the space at the window. Ed and Carla were asleep. Ed was curled around Carla's back. Phil hadn't been sure that they were a couple before. He had also been concerned about their reaction to Guy sharing his bed in a manner that was not platonic. They didn't say a thing. He took comfort in that.

They had come up with a modest plan. They figured that they would give it twenty-four hours. They would start hoarding food in the morning. Ed had a map in his bag. He and Carla had planned to do some sightseeing. He showed Guy where he thought that they might get through. "Maybe we take the Landon Nature Trail for part of the trek. It is not wide enough throughout for vehicles. I think the key is to get out to the countryside. The city is the point of focus for the containment."

"I agree." Guy traced the path on the map with his fingers. "Have either of you been on the trail? Do you know the area at all?"

"No. Neither of us has ever been to Kansas before."

"Me either," Guy replied then turned to Phil. "Have you been to Kansas before?"

"No. To think I was looking forward to this trip with you just a day ago." Phil trailed off then.

"I know." Guy had leaned over and brushed a quick kiss on his cheek. "So for now we sleep. We'll need the energy for the hike out. We'll leave tomorrow night." Guy had taken on a less frightened demeanor once a plan was being formed. Phil drew strength from his calmness. He had even managed to sleep a little. The distant crack of gunfire though had roused him.

"At least come lay down. There's nothing to see out there." Guy guided him back to the bed.

They slipped in and Guy wrapped his arms and legs around Phil entirely. _They could be safe here._  Phil thought about the world outside and how bad it was getting. Movies made it seem different somehow. It took longer for things to get out of control. He supposed that it wasn't completely out of control. They were sleeping in a hotel room with comforts and amenities. Tomorrow, if things went according to plan, they would be sleeping in the wild, or not sleeping.

In the movies, a virus might take a week to spread, or maybe two. It is usually a slow process, filled with brooding and time spent contemplating family and choices. The reality is far from the fiction. The Croatoan virus was spreading quite rapidly. It had never been contained. By the second day, most of Topeka would be infected. When they had planned, Ed, Carla, Guy, and Phil had considered the soldiers their enemies. They were the ones to avoid. They had spent so little time contemplating the dangers that would come from the infected.

They had plans that came from leisurely films and misguided assumptions that they had time. They did not have time. The next morning while they casually filled their bags with food pilfered from the kitchen, all Hell broke loose.

* * *

The snap of gunfire knocked them out of their quiet thieving. "What was that? Was it coming from inside?" The gunfire popped again. Carla grabbed Phil's arm. "We need to get Ed and Guy."

Phil nodded. The gunfire was getting closer. There were screams. Guy and Ed were in the walk-in getting some perishables for the first night, while he and Carla were getting canned food. He opened the door to the walk-in. "Change of plans. We gotta go now." The screams were louder. They were the only ones in the kitchen. The workers from the day before had seemingly given up their posts. Guy came to his side and Ed moved to Carla's.

They had their bags with them. They had planned to stow them near their exit. The door off the kitchen was still seemingly unguarded. "Stay close to me from here on out," Guy whispered into Phil's ear.

"You too," Phil whispered back. There were more gunshots. The cacophonous noises from the lobby were growing louder and worse. The screaming was accompanied by the sounds of things breaking, feet running, and shouts over bullhorns. Phil pushed open the door. "It's now or never. They'll be distracted by what is happening upstairs." It was broad daylight outside. They looked out and saw nothing. The lot outside was completely empty. There were fires in the distance. More smoke columns snaked up into the sky.

They edged along the building. The noise of gunfire slightly lessened by the closing of the door. "Where do we go?" Carla's words a harsh noise in the quiet.

"We need to get past the fence. Shouldn't be hard to just lift it, but we'll be exposed." Ed pointed off at the open space of asphalt between them and the fence.

"Like I said, now or never." Phil nodded and they all seemed to agree. Guy hefted the bag onto his back a little more. Ed did the same. They seemed to share a psychic moment in which they counted down, and then they ran.

There were no soldiers within their line of sight. Ed reached down and yanked up the bottom portion of the fence. "Go, Carla." She shimmied under it and popped up on the other side. Phil went next. Guy took off the bag and slid it under to Phil, then he shimmied under too. Phil put the bag on over his back. Guy reached down and held the fence up for Ed. There was a crack of gunfire. The bullet ricocheted off the top of the fence. Someone was aiming at them and luckily missed.

"Shit, shit. Come on!" Ed got to the other side. Carla had taken his bag when he had tossed it under. It was heavy. Another snap of gunfire and a shout. The bullet hit the bag that Carla was carrying. She let out a scream of terror. Ed took the bag and they ran. They had no direction, just a frantic dash to what they hoped would be safety. "Stay close!" Phil shouted to the others. Guy was running alongside him, his mouth open, breathing out heavy with each footfall.

They got to a building with a liquor store. The windows were all broken out. They went in just to be off the street. Gunshots followed them at first, then died off. They ducked past the shelves and slipped into the back of the shop. There was distant gunfire, the ratta-tat-tat of a deadly song. They breathed, and that was the only noise in the space. A brief moment of quiet and then there was a violent upheaval coming from the door behind them. It slammed open, and a man fell through it. He took one look at them and lunged for them. "Oh my God, oh my God!" Carla screamed as the man fell on her. She kicked back at him on instinct. Ed grabbed a bottle off the shelf next to him and slammed it on the man's head. This seemed to daze him a little.

Phil jumped on the man's back and pulled back on his head. The man snarled. He seemed intent on using his teeth in the fight. His mouth was open and a glint of blood soaked teeth peered out at him as they rolled together off of Carla. The man was on top of Phil, facing up now. Then out of nowhere, there was a crack, and the man's head was slammed off to the side. Guy stood over them both with a baseball bat in his hands. He reached down to Phil and pulled him up as he slid the body away. It was twitching on the floor at their feet. "Where'd you find a bat?" _Like that was the most important question._  Phil was panicking. This was a point of focus that he could handle.

"It was laying in the aisle. I think that someone used it to fight with. It was bloody."  _Well, now that was extra information that I didn't need._  Phil looked down at his hands which were shaking and then down at Carla who was clutched in Ed's arms. "You okay?" Phil looked back at Guy.

"Okay? None of this is making me feel okay." He felt the tremors pass through his whole body now.

"I mean, did he bite you?" Guy grabbed his hands and inspected his arms. He ran careful fingers up the inside of his arm in a way that sent shivers on ahead of the touch. "Thank God." He pulled Phil to him as he breathed out the words.

They decided to check the back room for more dangers. The space was empty. They decided to stay in the back room, barricading the door as they settled into the space. They decided to leave in the night again. They could look at the map, figure out where they were, and maybe make it to the trail without being spotted. These were the plans, but like most of the best laid schemes, these plans too would go awry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was soft starlight, a glow in your eyes  
> I linger in your arms, captive of sighs
> 
> You are my starlight, my lunar glory  
> You are my nighttime, balm against worry
> 
> Save me from daylight, and all that it shows  
> Take me back to a safe place, no one knows
> 
> Let me cling to you once more, in dreams true  
> Let me love you, 'ever, my moonlight, you.

The night seemed to be long. The room was windowless. They had turned off the harsh florescent lights in order to sleep and also to keep from drawing attention to the space. They left the purple neon sign turned on over by the office desk. It was not too bright and kept them from being in the deepest dark. Ed and Carla volunteered to stay awake for the first half of the night, while Phil and Guy slept. Phil dropped off to sleep eventually. He was exhausted. The sleep that he had gotten the night before had been woefully inadequate given the excitement earlier and the mental anguish that comes from processing the world in some sort of upheaval.

 

His sleep was not without interruption. He woke up several times as the night was punctuated with the pop of gunfire. He would jerk awake and Guy’s arms would wrap more fully around him, gentle fingers stroking away the tension in his muscles. Around 3:00 am Carla came over and tapped Guy and Phil awake. “Your turn,” she said past a yawn. She went back to Ed who was leaning against the wall and she curled up along his side.

 

Guy slid up into a seated position, leaning his back against the side of the office desk. Phil sat alongside him. He took Guy’s hand and threaded their fingers together.  Guy looked at Phil and said, “You should maybe change.”

 

Phil looked down at his shirt. It was covered in spatter patterns of blood. He looked at Guy and saw that he was also a little bloodied. “You too.” He motioned at the edge of Guy’s pants. Neither of them got up to change though. They stared off at the far wall, at nothing at all. Phil looked down at Guy’s hand in his own. He wondered how they could ever go back to their old lives. He wondered how this would all shake out. He wondered if it was even possible to survive any of this.

 

They stayed like that for an hour, each lost in their own thoughts. There was a pop of noise, and then the neon sign, their only source of light in the room ceased working. The room was thick in it’s darkness, like you could almost touch it. Guy jumped a little toward Phil. “Power out?”

 

“Maybe.” Phil crawled toward what he thought was the door and the barricade. He wasn’t sure where things were now. He had spent hours in this room, but he hadn’t committed the room’s layout to memory. His hands slid up the wall. He fumbled against something. “Ow. Shit.” _That’ll leave a bruise._

 

“You okay?” Guy sounded like he was moving now too.

 

“Just stay over there. No sense in both of us getting hurt.” Phil could hear Carla and Ed moving now.

 

“What happened?” Carla’s voice came to him through the dark.

 

“Power outage, maybe.” Phil moved in the direction of the barricade and what he hoped was the region containing the light switch.

 

“There was a flashlight in the desk. It’s in the top drawer.” Ed’s voice was still coming from the spot where Phil had last seen him.

 

“I’ll see if I can find it, since I’m leaning against the desk,” Guy said.

 

Phil felt the edge of the switch and turned it on. The lights did not comply. “Power’s out. The light switch isn’t doing a thing.”

 

“Here’s to hoping the flashlight is there.” Ed sounded like he was moving.

 

“Don’t leave me, Ed,” Carla said.

 

“I’m just moving toward the desk to help Guy. You can come too.”

 

“I’m on the drawer side,” Guy offered. “Where’s the flashlight?”

 

“Top right side.” Ed sounded like he was still moving.

 

A moment later and the sound of the drawer being opened lead to the dull beam of an ancient plastic flashlight. “Hey, it works,” Guy said.

 

“Barely.” Phil moved over to him and Ed and Carla did too. Something about the absolute lack of light in the room made it necessary for each of them to be close to the only light source in the place. Phil turned to Ed and Carla. “You two should try to get more sleep. We might have to run at sunrise.” Ed nodded and he and Carla settled back into their old spot. Guy did not turn off the light. He and Phil settled back into their old spot too.

 

* * *

 

 

Ed snores. Carla snores too. Guy and Phil studied their map of Kansas. They spoke in whispers. “Do you think that we should try to pass through the southern border?” Phil asked.

 

“Not on any main roads. The roads will be watched. We should try to cross over at least a mile or more from any kind of civilization.”

 

“So, no roads or cities.” Phil traced out a route that seemed to avoid those things. Guy traced out another. They discussed the merits of both. There weren’t many cities in Kansas. There were towns, but there were no large scale spots full of skyscrapers kissing the clouds. Most of the land was rather flat. Phil wondered how they would hide in areas that were miles of just fields. Guy glanced down at his wristwatch, and Phil followed the move. According to the time, it was nearly dawn. Guy got up and made his way back to the other side of the desk. Phil followed him. He quietly opened the top drawer.

 

Guy angled the beam of light down into the space. Phil saw the contents. “We should take this.” Guy reached in and pulled out the revolver. He tipped it to the side and looked into the chambers for bullets. It was loaded.

 

“Is the safety on?”

 

“I don’t know a thing about this kind of gun.” Guy handed the gun to Phil. “I shot a Beretta once. This is way different.”

 

“Well, it’s been a long time for me. I think the safety is here.” Phil found a spot on the gun and pointed it out to Guy. He nodded back at Phil. “You don’t want to carry it?”

 

“Not really. You carry it.” Guy looked away. Phil put the gun in his coat pocket. It felt awkward having it there.

 

“We’ll be okay, Guy.” He pulled him to his chest. They stood still in the near dark just holding each other. The breath of all things around them made smaller by the movement into each other’s arms. “You’ll be okay.”

 

Guy was shaking a little. “You can’t make that promise. I love you, but you can’t.”

 

“I can.” Phil tipped back a little to better look at his face. “You know why?”

 

“No.” Guy leaned down to him and rested his head against Phil’s.

 

“Because nothing matters more to me than you. I have your back out here, and you have mine. We’re going to make it. I swear to God, Guy. We will make it.”

 

“God has abandoned us.” It was a sad statement. Phil reached up and cupped his cheeks with the palms of his hands. He stroked the edges of Guy’s face with his thumbs.

 

“Then I swear by the moon, that always brings light to us in the darkest nights. I swear by the night that will shield us from the horror filled world. I swear by the love that I have for you. I swear by all that is holy, which is now just you, my sole reason for anything. I swear that we will make it. You and I will survive this.” Phil kissed him then to press into him some measure of hope that seemed to be suddenly failing. Thankfully, Guy kissed him back, and seemed to regain some of what was once lost.

 

“Always with the poetry, Phil.” Guy breathed into Phil’s neck. Phil just held him, and they took what comfort they could in that moment. There were sudden noises outside. There was a crashing noise like some large vehicle had torn through metal with great force. There was the rhythmic pelting noise of gunfire that was quite close. It also was more than sporadic. It was coming out in a long stream of pops. “Get the bags.” Guy turned to Carla and Ed as he said it. He and Phil crouched down near the door. Guy leaned his ear against the wall. “I can hear soldiers out there.”

 

Phil pulled the gun out and moved Guy behind him. Carla and Ed moved over to the wall behind Guy. They had the bags slung over their shoulders. There was an explosion that sent them all back from the wall in a single jump. A picture mounted over their heads rattled free and crashed down on top of them. It cut Ed a little on his arm. They didn’t deal with it though. They were too busy listening and trying to maintain their own silence as the labored noise of a large engine roared outside. More gunfire noises penetrated past the walls. Guy’s hand was on Phil’s back.

 

The noise died down with an added chorus of shouts. The engine noise seemed to be slowly melting into silence. They waited, baited breaths coming out only in necessary trickles. Each of them seemed to be concentrating on not moving or even thinking too loudly. When it seemed to be quiet again, Phl said, “We should remove the barricade, see what happened.” His words seemed to break the spell of quiet that had overtaken them all. Carla got up and Guy directed the light toward her. She rummaged around by the desk and came back with paper towels to daub at Ed’s cut on his arm. It was minor, but still it was making a mess.

 

“Do you think that it needs stitches?” She asked him.

 

“Nah.” Ed took the paper towels from her and held them on the wound. The bleeding would stop. it really wasn’t so bad.

 

Guy got up then and started removing the barricade from the door. It was really nothing, and now that Phil was really looking at it, he thought that it was rather silly of them to think that moving a table, some boxes, and a chair in front of the door was in any way a sufficient barricade. They had been exhausted. Worse yet, they had been naive and maybe still were.

 

Once the items were removed from the front of the door, They all stood and stared at the too thin bit of substance separating them from all of the dangers of the world. Phil held the gun at his side and eased the door open a crack. The smell of smoke assailed his nose first. The world outside was awash in dawn’s early light. He could see past the rows of convenience store shelves to the front and outside. A Dodge Ram SUV was on its side. It looked like it had crashed into the building across the street. There were plumes of deep black smoke forming a tower climbing out and away from the scene. Flames were darting out around the front of the car that was wedged into the building’s large picture window. It was one of those windows that would have been a showcase for items that one should buy. The teaser window. Now it was certainly eye-catching as the fire and the car were creating a scene of destruction.

 

Phil edged out from the room into the store. He moved with caution down the aisle. The items on the shelves were no longer all upright. Most had fallen. There were broken bottles and rolling cans on the floor. Liquids dripped down to the speckled linoleum. Phil glanced back and let his eyes settle on the body of the man that had attacked them earlier. He was still now, face down in his own blood. Phil had banished most thoughts of that moment. Guy had killed the man. Guy had saved him from the man. The thoughts, if given too much attention would lead to him thinking that they were surrounded by too much danger, and that they would not survive. _We will make it. We will get through this._ Those thoughts were his mantra, his hopeful belief.

 

He reached the end of the store and looked out the window. The street seemed empty of life, but not bodies. To the left, past their building, there were a dozen bodies lying still and face down on the pavement. They were men, women, and children. They were civilians. Guy was beside him, peering out past him. “Wonder if they were infected or if they were just trying to escape.” Guy’s voice was a low whisper, but even that felt too loud.

 

Carla and Ed moved in to join them. Ed asked, “Should we head out in daylight?”

 

“I don’t know. Feels too exposed, but this spot seems dangerous too.” Phil leaned out of the store and let his eyes sweep the other direction.

 

“Maybe not too dangerous though. They did just kill off a bunch of people before leaving. Maybe they’ll think that this area is all clear.” Despite their reservations and Guy’s words, they all moved out to the sidewalk. The crackle of the fire seemed to be growing louder. “We need to move away from that. It could explode.” Guy pointed at the vehicle. They all headed down the sidewalk away from the dead, but also back in the direction that they had come.

 

Phil had memorized the path on the map that would lead them to the Landon Trail. Unfamiliarity with the region though made the process a bit abstract. Lines on a map were different from the lines of the sidewalk surrounded by unfamiliar buildings and the scent of fire and death. His mind clouded. The sky was growing brighter. The cruel sun would soon brighten the world so much that there would be no hiding from those that wished to end them.

 

None of them spoke, yet somehow they all seemed content to follow Phil’s lead. He moved down an alleyway between two multi-storied buildings. They made an effort at speed, despite the fact that they were trying for quiet too. Phil thought that their footsteps were too loud. He looked back at the others. Carla’s face was smudged with dirt. Her eyes seemed to be an almost unreal electric blue. The way the light was hitting her made her freckles stand out on her almondine skin. She had pulled back her hair the night before into a high ponytail. It was a mess now, with little strands escaping to fray out around her face.

 

Ed rested a hand on Carla’s shoulder as they moved past abandoned cars and empty spaces. The world felt dead, and Phil could almost taste the smoke on his lips when he licked them. They got to the end of another alley when they heard the noise of another engine. Ed said, “We need to take cover.” There was a metal door in the brick building that was their temporary shield. Guy pulled at the handle, but it did not open. “Shoot it.” Ed pushed Phil toward it, urgency mapping his dark features.

 

The engines were getting closer. Phil tried to figure out how many vehicles there were just by the sound. He thought that maybe it was a half dozen. Guy was looking around the corner of the building. He said back to them. “Can’t see them yet. Maybe we can get to the other side. Maybe those doors are unlocked.” Guy was pointing at the building across the street. It looked like a thrift store and not very secure. Phil looked back at the building with the metal door. It didn’t have many windows. He thought that it was an odd structure. He couldn’t see the front, so he wasn’t sure what kind of building it was.

 

“This one’s maybe safer.” Phil angled the gun at the spot where he hoped the bullet would do the best work, just beside the handle, near the frame. He pulled the trigger. The sound of it reverberated past them. It was too loud. Ed grabbed the door and pulled it open. It was dark inside. They rushed in as the engines seemed to be drawing much closer. Guy was at Phil’s side.

 

They pulled the door closed and the room was thick darkness. Phil ran his hand up the door and found a bolt near the top. They had been lucky that it had not been slid into place. He moved it over to hold the door closed. Guy pulled out the ancient flashlight that they had taken from the store. He turned it on and gave it a little wack. The too soft amber glow wavered in the dark. They moved along the thin hall. Phil still couldn’t tell what the building was. There was a noise, small, but it was indicative of movement. They slowed as if of one mind. Phil took the lead. Guy aimed the light ahead of them. A dim glow was coming from up ahead, where the hall turned toward the front of the building. The roar of engines were quite loud now.

 

Phil edged along. Movement. There were doors on each side of the hall, making the space seem like it was an office building. One of the doors was open. They could see shadows in the space. Then a body, dimly lit by the glow coming from around the corner and Guy’s feeble flashlight. There was a pause in that moment. They stopped walking, and the body in the shadows stopped and faced them. One moment, two, three, four--silence was almost palpable. Then a roar of noise came from it, and it launched itself from the room toward them.

 

If it had been alone, it would have been fine. It was not. Phil raised the gun and fired. He caught the shoulder. The room was full of noise as they scrambled back down the hall. Carla screamed. The man, _was it a man_ , kept lurching toward them. Phil shot again. This time to the head. The body fell back to the ground. Phil moved toward it. He pushed the body over onto its back to get a look at it. It was a man. His face was more blood now than skin. Phil shook violently and fell back against the wall. Guy came up and pressed a hand to his shoulder. “You’ll be okay. I’m here.”

 

Phil leaned over at the waist and vomited what little was left in his stomach, which wasn’t much. The act was more of a violent clenching of all of his muscles with little result beyond gut wrenching pain. “I’m okay.” The noise at the end of the hall drew their eyes again. They could hear the vehicles outside, but more importantly was the room from which the man had emerged. Now there were others. Guy’s flashlight aimed at them. There was a dozen, maybe more just standing there beyond the door, staring at them.

 

Ed whispered near Phil’s ear, “We need to move.” As soon as they started to back track down the hall the stillness ended. The movement at the door told them that they were all coming for them in a chaos of limbs and inhuman movement. Seconds passed that felt like ages. Ed threw open an office door and they went in. The space was large, an interior office space. Phil began quickly pushing a large table over to the door as the sound of bodies hitting the other side pierced past the door. “Shit, come on.” Ed waved at Carla to help them move more in front of the space. The door pressed forward. The table wasn’t holding them back.

 

“Damn it. What do we do?” Phil yelled as he pushed hard against the table, trying to hold it to the door. Guy was at his side pushing with equal energy.

 

There was a loud crashing sound, somewhat distant. The force against the door was too much. They were knocked back by the mob of bodies that pushed into the space. They had no time to think. Guy grabbed something off of the shelf, a large bust or something like that. Phil fired off a shot, hitting one of the people in the head. Guy, Ed, and Carla moved behind the desk. Phil was in front of the desk. He shot another person as they rushed him. Ed moved back to Phil’s side of the desk. Ed had managed to grab a golf club. He was swinging it wildly at one of the men that was nearly on him. Carla was pressed back into the corner. Guy was near her. A large woman lunged at Phil and caught him off-guard. He fell back onto the table with her on him. There was a surge of bodies on them. There was more than the press of her with her snarling teeth and wild eyes. He lost his grip on the gun and fought to keep her face from his own.

 

“Phil!” He could hear Guy’s yell past the noise of the woman and the rest of the people in the room. It was animalistic, the sounds of their chaos, all growls and the gnashing of teeth. There was the harsh blast of a gun and the woman fell on him in a dead weight. Carla had plucked up the gun and shot her in the head. Phil shoved the body off his chest.

 

The seconds of peace between the woman being shot and the next battle were too short. Carla fired off another shot. Phil grabbed a handful of shirt on a man that was on Ed. He pulled him back. Ed has lost his golf somehow in the struggle. Phil punched him in the head and then slammed his fist into the man’s side, near the kidneys. The man slumped down. Ed took over as Phil was pulled back by hands too rough to be friendly. Carla was aiming at one of them and pulling the trigger. It clicked but did not fire.

 

Phil rolled to the left, taking one of the bodies with him. The other one that was pulling at his arm was left somewhat behind. There was a sharp report noise of shouts. Phil couldn’t tell where they were coming from. He kicked at the man that was on him. He rolled back a bit onto his shoulders and kicked back hard into the torso of the man. Guy was over him. He reached down and pulled him to his feet. They fought, back to back, punching out at what they were facing.

 

A man was in the doorway, military fatigues the only thing that fully registered for Phil as he fought. The man raised his weapon aimed into the room, and in a swift series of movements, shot each of the vicious men and women in the room. Ed, Carla, Phil, and Guy stood together in a room full of the dead. The man walked into the space. He was not alone. Several men in military gear filled the space behind him. Their only exit cut off now. Phil could practically feel Guy breathing at his side. He wanted to reach out to him, gain tangible evidence that he was okay. He did not move though.

 

The silence was broken when the leader of the group spoke to them. He kept his gun aimed a little into the room. “Have you been bitten by the infected?” Phil looked from one to the next. They were covered in blood. It was gruesome. Ed looked like he had not an inch of clean skin left on his body. Guy’s shirt was torn. There was a trail of blood running down the side of his face in a rivulet. It was not coming from a wound. Carla’s hair was wilder now and blood splashed.

 

Guy spoke, “We are unbitten.” The man lowered the gun a fraction.

 

“Come with us.” His tone told them that they could not chose to do otherwise.

 

Phil still asked, “Where will you take us?”

 

“To the quarantine. We need to check you for contamination.” He waved to the door with his gun, implying that they should move out to the hall ahead of them. He felt Guy’s hand brush his as they moved as they were directed.

 

“We’ve been to the hotel once already.” Carla offered back to the man that was now behind them.

 

“We aren’t going back to the hotel. It has been compromised. We’ve set up another more secure quarantine zone.” They moved out of the building into the blinding sunlight. Phil’s eyes adjusted with effort. The building had been quite dark.

 

One of the soldiers used his gun to push Ed ahead when they stopped moving. Ed was going to protest, but he bit back his words after seeing the look on the man’s face. Phil took it in on a glance and spoke up. “You aren’t going to shoot us are you?”

 

The man that was seemingly in charge said, “Only if you give us a reason.” He pointed up into the back of the transport vehicle and added, “Get in.”

 

They climbed in and took seats along the bench that lined each of the sides of the back of the vehicle. Some of the soldiers got in and sat at the end of the bench. Guy’s hand found his in the dark, in the space between them on the bench. Phil squeezed it back. The vehicle rumbled to life. It bumped into movement and within moments was speeding away from the city center.

 

The buildings were smears of color as they whipped by on the dead street. Phil watched the world that had held them as it grew distant. They took a turn and slid into each other a little. Guy squeezed his hand in silent communication. Phil looked at him. Guy motioned toward the back of the truck. They had pulled into a space that had a makeshift barrier around it. The tall cement barricade was topped with barbed wire. The transport vehicle came to a stop. The soldiers jumped out and waved them down to follow.

 

They slowly made their way down to the ground again. Carla was lifted down by Ed. There was a sound of a shot fired not too far from them. A soldier had shot a man in the head near the high cement wall of a factory building.

 

“Oh God.” Phil shrunk back from it.

  
“We kill the infected. Come on.” The soldier directed them with his gun to the building, past the extra layer of barbed wire. The man that had been shot had not been attacking. Phil shook with the thought as it took a new terrifying shape. If they would shoot those that were non-violent, then they might shoot any one of them too. The building loomed large over their heads as they approached it. The grey cement of the wall greeted them like the mass of gravestones in an empty cemetery. The soldiers moved them through the doors, into the room, and closed off the outside as soon as they were all in the space together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can love you true in the crisp, cool night.
> 
> I’ll drown willingly in your tight embrace.
> 
> Let not the day remove you from my sight.
> 
> The only world for us is just this space.
> 
> I’ve contemplated beauty in all ways,
> 
> And I dreamed of all that we might have been.
> 
> The Sun will tempt you from night to cruel day.
> 
> I’ll cherish alone all that I have seen.
> 
> Your face under starlight, mine to behold,
> 
> Can only be mine now in tender dreams.
> 
> Loving you there in the dark and the cold,
> 
> I’ll take what I may, under moonlight beams
> 
> Though you’re not him, you bring me sweet relief.
> 
> I’ll cherish him, through you in bitter grief.

The space was crowded and grew more so as time passed. The soldiers stood between them and the doors, and also between them and the large central living space within the factory. The building had been a greeting card factory before. There were large machines that were shut down now. They were surrounded by the dead machines actually. Phil stayed close to Guy and not too far from Ed and Carla.

 

The CDC had been brought in to check the people in the crowd for infection. The first time that they passed through, they merely looked at each person’s eyes. They had these odd lights that they passed in front of each person’s face. He and Guy had been checked quickly. They spent a bit more time on Carla and Ed.

 

Then there was the interminable silence that makes everything seem to go on longer. He couldn’t even bring himself to speak with Guy. The world felt like it was ending. He was immobilized by shock and fear. Everything felt dangerous. Eventually, men in hazmat suits came back into the room. “We are going to move some of you into the decontamination rooms now. After you have been cleaned and checked for the infection, you will be moved into the common area where you will be fed and given a cot. Please be patient as this process is lengthy but necessary.”

 

The voice was calm and at the same time authoritative. The soldiers began directing everyone into lines. Guy stayed close, and Phil kept his eyes trained on the distance. There were rooms at the far end of the factory. Some of the people were taken to the rooms marked A, B, or C. Others were taken to the other side of the factory to the G, H, or I labeled rooms. Phil noted the difference in the people that were sent in each direction. The healthier looking souls seemed to go to the A side of the factory. Then they got to a man that looked like he had been through an epic battle. His head had been cut. His wife had been holding a rag to the wound. The bleeding had lessened, but it would need stitches. One of the CDC men stepped closer and tipped the man’s head back . He took a swab and daubed at the wound. He placed the swab into a container and handed it back to one of the other men behind him. “Take that to the lab,” he said as he turned back to the man and wife.

 

“He needs stitches,” the wife said.

 

“Yes, he does.” It was hard to get a read on the man’s tone, as the hazmat suit shielded much of his face. “Did you encounter the infected prior to coming here?”

 

“They attacked us. Tom fought them off. He kept them from me.” The woman was older, past fifty. Her blue eyed glance kept shifting back and forth from her husband to the CDC man in front of her.

 

“Let’s get him fixed up then. Sounds like he is a hero.” The man reached out to Tom and pulled him up onto his feet. He had been one of the few people that was sitting.

 

“Can I go with him?” The woman began following them.

 

“It might be best if you go get decontaminated and checked in room C. We’ll reunite you two after we get him fixed up.” The quiet reassurance was enough. The woman drifted off toward room C, and her husband was taken to the other side of the factory. The CDC man said to the soldier at the edge of the group. “Take him to room Z.” Then he turned back to the crowd and the job at hand.

 

Guy leaned into Phil’s ear. “We will not be separated like that.”

 

Phil turned to him. “We will not be separated.” Guy’s look told him that they were both seeing the same thing. Phil added, “We want to be sent to A.”

 

“Yes.” Their turn was getting closer. Phil was shaking. Guy’s hand found his back and sent warmth out with a touch. “Try not to shake. It is a symptom, maybe.”

 

Phil did his best to dial down his fear, but it was proving unsuccessful. The man stood in front of him. Phil did his best to see more beyond the mask. He and another man looked over Phil’s arms and lifted his shirt to look at his torso. They were thorough in their attentions. The man that was in charge said, “You look like you’ve been through Hell.” He lowered Phil’s shirt and pulled out the light again to check his eyes. “What happened to you out there?”

 

“We were attacked in an office building. The soldiers rescued us before it could become dire.” Phil wasn’t shaking now. He was concentrating though on the movements, the ways that the man spoke, and also where he directed his attentions.

 

He stepped back from Phil and asked, “Do you have any open wounds that we will need to attend to?” The question was a loaded one, and Phil knew it. He luckily enough though did not have to lie.

 

“I managed to keep that from happening. No cuts.” Phil felt Guy’s hand at his back still. His fingers curling in and out a little, a quiet reminder that he was right their. It was also subtle enough that maybe the others wouldn’t notice. This was Kansas after all and not L.A.

 

“There’s a lot of blood on your clothing. Did any bodily fluids come into contact with your mouth as you were fighting the infected?” The man moved to Phil’s side and used a scope to look into Phil’s ear as he waited for an answer. Phil felt Guy’s hand fall away as the exam made detection likely.

 

“I managed to keep from getting any blood in my mouth. Didn’t manage to keep it off of my clothes though.” Phil attempted a smile, an effort at good humor that he hoped would add to the idea that he was not infected.

 

“Looks like you were quite lucky.” The man stepped back and then moved to Phil’s other ear. He peered into that one as well. “The infection is not like anything that we have seen before. It is spread through contact with bodily fluids. We will need to get you cleaned up. You really were lucky.”

 

“I don’t feel lucky. The last couple of days have been Hell.” The man stepped back, and past the mask, a look of sympathy seemed to be present; although, Phil could not be certain.

 

“Well, believe me when I say that you are quite lucky.” He began to move toward Guy then. He turned back to Phil and added, “You will go to room G for further decontamination and to get out of the bloody clothes. If you don’t have anything else to wear, they’ll give you something. Those won’t do anymore.” He waved a hand at Phil’s blood stained attire. Phil took a tentative step toward the soldiers that would lead him off to room G, then he turned back as the CDC man began examining Guy.

 

One of the soldiers said, “Come this way.”

 

Phil turned to him and said, “I’d like to wait just a moment.” He motioned toward Guy and added, “We have traveled together. I want to know where to find him after all of the decontamination is done.” The soldier looked like he was going to force Phil to move along.

 

The CDC man turned back and said, “You can wait.” The soldier backed off then. “So, you are traveling together.” The question seemed to just be filling silence as he lifted Guy’s shirt and looked over his torso and arms as he had done to Phil.

 

Guy responded, “We left the quarantine at the hotel and encountered the infected at a nearby office building.” He avoided explaining their deeper connection.

 

“It was good that you left the hotel.” The CDC man pulled the light out again and examined Guy’s eyes. “You’re from France.”

 

“Yes.” Guy didn’t elaborate.

 

“My sister-in-law is French. She doesn’t like me much. Says that I lack manners or somesuch.” He moved to Guy’s ears then. “Did you ingest any blood during your fight? Looks like you fought hard, you and your friend.”

 

“I did not let any of the blood get on my face. I was careful. As careful as I could be, anyway.” Guy was speaking slowly, careful with his words. He did that when he was nervous about making a good impression. He worried about his English, which Phil was always quick to praise. Phil told him that his English was great, better than some of his native English speaking students.

The man stepped back a moment and looked over his shoulder at Phil then back at Guy. “Where did you both come from? I mean, you’re not from Kansas, I take it.”

 

“Phil is from L.A. and I am from Venice Beach in California.” Guy needed to smile. Phil wanted to tell him to smile, lighten his expression. He looked too aggressive. A lighter expression might get him into the A room.

 

“Guy has managed to avoid most of the contact with the infected. Let me do the dirty work.” Phil tried to make light of the actions of the last few days. Guy cast a glance at him then that seemed to say something more.

 

“Well, that is good. Looks like your friend has managed to avoid at least some of the fluids that you managed to find.” He turned to Guy and said, “You can head to room C for further decontamination. You’ll get a change of clothes there and then you two can meet up in the common area for food and a place to sleep.”

 

Guy was shaking his head though. “No, I think that you should send me to room G. I have touched his clothing and should go through the same level of decontamination as he is.”

 

The man was turning his attention to the next group as Guy spoke. He came back to him. “You’ll go to room C. I don’t have the resources to spare for full decontamination when it is unnecessary.”

 

“I believe that you are mistaken. Reconsider. I need to go to room G.” Guy’s voice dropped to something lower, almost menacing.

 

Phil stepped over to him and felt the soldier move behind him. “It’s okay, Guy. I’ll find you in the common room. Don’t worry.”

 

“I said before, we will not be separated, and I meant it.” Guy’s eyes were hard as he spoke. He turned back to the CDC man and waited.

 

The man looked back at Phil then and walked around him once. “I was mistaken. You are going to room F.” He turned to Guy and added, “You too.” He moved away from them and waved a hand behind him to indicate that he was done. The soldier nodded and they followed him toward the rooms on the left.

 

Guy fell into step beside him and whispered, “I told you that we would not be separated. Why were you trying to leave me?”

 

“I wasn’t. You got downgraded to room F because of me.”  Phil was feeling the beginnings of irritation. Guy would have been safer in room C. Who knows what room F is really. They made their way down the hall that was not particularly well lit. The rooms on the side had letters on them. They passed room D and Phil casually looked in. There were medical workers, all in hazmat suits. There were metal tables with people sitting on them while they were being examined. On the far end, people were coming and going into a deeper part of the room that was beyond his view. The soldiers kept them moving. Phil looked at Guy and said, “You needed to be in room C.”

 

Guy whispered again, “I needed to be where you are. Don’t try to leave me again.”

 

Phil looked at him, registering the shift in tone. It was laced with sadness. Phil reached out to him and let his hand subtly brush his. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. Nothing separates us.” Guy nodded back in acknowledgement.

 

They entered a room that was not unlike room D. A medic approached them. He was in a hazmat suit and had the insignia of the CDC on his chest. “I’m going to need you boys to step into the rooms over there. Discard your clothes and you will be thoroughly decontaminated. It will be unpleasant. We have to be sure that all of the blood is rinsed from your bodies. The water pressure will be intense.”

 

Phil attempted humor again and said, “So, like a Silkwood shower, huh?”

 

“Pretty much.” The response was too serious. Phil knew that he wasn’t returning the joke, but was instead providing confirmation.

 

“Oh, shit.” Phil reached back and took Guy’s hand.

 

“What does that mean? What is a Silkwood shower?” Guy wouldn’t know the reference. Phil thought about whether or not to tell him. There wasn’t time though. They were being directed into the two rooms,  separate from each other. Guy did not let go of his hand. “Not separating.”

 

“We have to for the showering. We’ll be right next to each other.” Phil gave his hand a little squeeze before moving over to the doorway of his room. Guy looked uncertain, but went along with the plan. When he was further into the room, he turned back to see that he was not going in alone. He had thought that he would have some privacy as he changed out of his clothes, but apparently he had been wrong. “Will someone explain to him, what the shower will be like?”

 

“I think that it might be better if they don’t. Why make it scary?” The man stood across from him and seemed to be waiting. “Well, take off the bloody clothes.” Phil stood there a moment longer before he began peeling away the layers of clothes. The blood was sticky in some spots and dry in others. He tossed them into a pile that the medic had indicated.

 

Then he was directed into the shower space. The medic closed the door on the makeshift stall that they had built for this purpose. It seemed more like something one would see at a T.S.A. screening, glass on all sides. He looked up at the nozzle that would rain down on him. The walls of the box had nozzles too. His nudity bothered him. He didn’t like being so exposed to this stranger that was watching him. Why couldn’t some small bit of privacy happen. He supposed that the visual confirmation of cleanliness was necessary as was the need to see that he was not cut or bitten beneath his clothes. Without warning the water sprayed down on him and also blasted him from all sides. He had not intended to react to it, but he screamed when it hit him. The pressure was powerful. It felt like it could rip his skin from his body. He tried to cover his face and other sensitive areas. He could hear a tapping sound on the glass, but he couldn’t see past the water. It was everywhere.

 

He pressed himself to the wall of glass and tried to breathe. The tapping continued. He could finally see that it was the medic. He made a swirling move with his finger like he wanted Phil to spin around a little. Phil complied. What else could he do? The water beat at him, and beat at him. The air was growing thick with the humidity. The temperature seemed to be rising. The water that ran down the drain had grown clear. It had been pink with the blood of others before. He was gasping for air now. The glass box was too sealed up. He began choking. He slumped down to his knees. There was something more to the air than just the wet thickness of it. There was a smell. It wasn’t just water. He felt a burning heat in the water that marched over his skin. It was a burn that did not come from the temperature, but instead it came from something chemical.

 

“Let me out. Let me out!” He was gagging on the words. He pounded at the edge of the glass. He thought of Guy. Were they doing this to Guy? He was losing strength and consciousness. His last thoughts were of Guy as his mind slipped into darkness.

 

* * *

 

Phil woke up in a small cot. His body was shivering against the cold in the room. The thin blanket that was pulled up over his shoulders did little against the cold. The room was dark, but not quiet. The room was filled with the dull murmurings of people, hundreds of people. His eyes adjusted to the dark as he sat up, pulling the blanket with him. Guy. He looked around, hoping to spot him. He got up and began walking between the rows of cots. He gripped the blanket high up near his throat as it hung over his back. He wanted to call out for him, but there seemed to be some attempt at quiet communication in the room.

 

He got to the end of the row and turned to go up the next. There were makeshift screens erected between some of the cots, seemingly to give the semblance of rooms and privacy. This made scanning the cots more difficult. He slowly picked his way past a small family that was sitting in the aisle between two rows of cots. “Excuse me,” he muttered as he stepped over them. They shifted out of the way minimally.

 

“Phil.” He heard his name coming from one of the cots.

 

“Carla?” He moved to her side.

 

“Have you seen Ed? I was told to wait here and that he would find me when he was done in decontamination. It’s been hours though. I want to look for him, but what if he is trying to find me too and we miss each other?” Her voice was cracking. She was knitting her fingers into his sleeve. Phil looked down at his shirt where she was clinging and saw that he was wearing some sort of linen shirt over grey sweat pants.

 

“I haven’t seen Ed. I just woke up from the decontamination shower. Have you seen Guy?” He craned his neck to continue his search while he waited for her response.

 

“No, haven’t seen him either.” She followed his gaze. “Should we look together?”

 

“I think we should.” He came down to a squat near the family in the aisle and said, “Hello, there.” They turned to him and waited. “My name is Phil and this is Carla. We are looking for our family. One of them is a man with a heavy French accent. His name is Guy. He has dark hair. He’s thin and has brown eyes. Ed is dark skinned, has a mustache, and short hair, shaved.” He rattled off the list of attributes. “If you see them, will you tell them to wait here? We are going to go look for them.”

 

The man that spoke was tall and blonde. His height was evident even as he sat .“If we see them. A lot of people are missing. It’s why we are sitting in the aisle. We’ll stand out for when the rest of our party starts looking for us.”

 

“I’m a little concerned about how the military is going to reunite families in this mess.” Phil turned back to Carla then and said over his shoulder, “Thank you.” The man nodded back.

 

Carla leaned into him as they wended their way through the rows. “I’m worried, Phil.”

 

“What room did they send him to?” They got to the end of another row and Phil stopped for a moment to stretch out and look over the space.

 

“Room Z.”

 

Phil looked down at her and pushed down his response. His face became a mask. Instead he asked, “What room were you sent to?”

 

“I was sent to room C.”

 

“That’s where Guy was supposed to go. He insisted that he had to follow me.” He rested a hand on her arm. “Did they run you through a shower?”

 

“Yes. It was fairly tame. I heard that the other rooms had it worse.” They began walking again.”

 

“That would be an understatement. I’m worried about Guy. He wasn’t prepared for that.” They moved down the row at a slow pace. Phil peered into each space for the mess of dark brown hair. There were families scattered about everywhere. They got to the end of the next row and rounded to the next. A woman grabbed his arm and stared into his face.

 

“I’m looking for a boy. Yeigh high.” She held up her hand at her waist. “He has brown hair. He’s tan. He laid out at the pool for hours.”

 

“I’ve only seen children with their parents. Sorry.” He started to edge away from her to continue his mission.

 

“Please.” She stopped him again and showed him the picture. “His name is Jeremy.”

 

Phil looked down at the picture and said, “I’ll keep my eyes open for him while I look for my own people.” She nodded at him, seeming to accept the offer.

 

“Thank you.” She edged away from him and seemed to be searching in much the same way as he had been before.

 

Carla stepped up to his side. “What if we don’t find them?”

 

“We’ll find them. They weren’t infected so we’ll find them.” They continued onward down one row then the next. Time became an abstract concept to Phil. He knew that it had been some time since he had woken up in the cot, but how long exactly was a mystery. They got to the end of the rows near the wall that had the rooms A, B, and C. He turned to Carla’s wide open eyes and struggled for what to do next. He looked off at the other end of the rows, back to where they had started. The CDC medics were bringing out more people, depositing them on cots, and then leaving. Phil turned to Carla and said, “We have to go back to the start. They’ve brought out more people. Maybe Guy and Ed are there now.”

 

They made their way along the end of the rows back to the start. Carla took his hand in hers. “I can’t lose him Phil. It took forever to find him. Do you know what I had before Ed?”

 

Phil shook his head and said, “I imagine it was exactly what I had before Guy.”

 

“Maybe. I was gearing up for a life as the crazy cat lady. I had an old divorce, disappointed parents, and my cat. The cat got pregnant, and suddenly I was the crazy cat lady.” Phil squeezed her hand and she continued. “You know who never shoved an ounce of pity down my throat?”

 

“Guessing Ed,” Phil answered needlessly.

 

“Bing, bing, bing. You win. He was it. He started teaching at my school. His wife left him the year before. He was mopey and all kinds of hot sad looking. I fell for that right away. He asked me to coffee. We made it a regular thing.”

 

“And the rest is history.” They got back to the start and hovered for a moment, watching the new people that were being carried in, looking at faces as they passed.

 

“Well, not exactly. We got awkward first. He thought that I had been viewing him as a friend. He tried to set me up with one of his best friends. I was so confused. I thought that he was telling me that he didn’t want me.”

 

“What’d you do?” Phil moved down the first row again with Carla in tow.

 

“I went, of course. Couldn’t figure out why Ed was so miserable the week prior. I didn’t get him. I mean, he set me up. So, I went with the guy, Derek. He was great. We got to the restaurant and he said, ‘So, I just want you to know that I am gay and Ed is totally in love with you.’ I nearly choked on my food. He had only agreed to the date because he wanted to help spur Ed to action.”

 

Phil was smiling now. “Did it work right away or did you have to wait for him to figure it all out?”

 

“Oh, he asked me out the next day.” She was smiling now too. Then she stopped and said, “Guy!” Phil turned, and there was Guy laying on a cot. He rushed to him.

 

“Guy,” Phil shook him. He did not move. He rolled him over. His skin was a patchwork of bruises. “Oh God, what have they done to you?” He pulled him to his chest and rocked his unconscious body. He pressed his lips to his head and breathed in as much of him as his lungs could hold. Until this moment, he had thought that he had lost him. “I’ll never let you out of my sight again. Never, ever…” He pressed as close to him as he could, rocking as he did so. “Just be okay, Guy. Just be okay.”

 

Carla leaned down next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to keep looking for Ed. You rest here with Guy. I’ll come back to you both.” Phil nodded. He settled Guy back down to the cot and curled up around him, holding him close.

 

“Be okay, Guy. I can’t do this without you. I need you. I need you so much.” Phil ran his hand up into his hair and hummed out a song as he settled his head into the space at Guy’s shoulder. It was their song, or so Guy had said a lifetime before in his little apartment in Venice Beach. The sun had set. They had eaten more dinner than was at all reasonable. Guy had turned on an old record player that he had picked up at the thrift store. He had also purchased every old time classic that he could get his hands on. He had looked back over his shoulder before he had set the needle to the record. Phil remembered how his face had glowed with the light from the window. The streetlights had just come on, sending with them a soft amber brilliance.

 

Guy had set the needle and the first sounds were the soft scratches of the needle finding its path. Phil had watched him in all of his moves, from the table to the records on the floor, then to the player. His deft fingers opening the sleeve as he pulled out his selection. Phil lived in the moment that Guy had smiled back over his shoulder at him. It was more than a moment and the rest was more than a song. Guy had lifted an arm out toward Phil and had beckoned with his palm out, fingers curling in in a way that said, get over here.

  
Phil had walked over in what he had hoped would seem to be a casual, sensual approach. When they had bridged the gap between them, and “In the Still of the Night” was crooning out around them, Phil had pressed into the dance that Guy had wanted. _I love you_ , he had said a lifetime ago. He whispered it again into Guy’s hair, and then he hummed the rest of the song, hoping that it would draw Guy back to him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all liked it well enough. There will be maybe two more chapters to round it out if there is interest.
> 
> Also, it likely goes without saying, but Down to Agincourt is the best. Thank goodness for Seperis and her beautiful original characters. I fell in love with the awkward little Phil because she made him worthy of it.


End file.
